Serenade
by Fate'sSkirt
Summary: (On Hiatus) The veil was in the Department of Mysteries for more than one reason. The Shiba clan dabbled in the forbidden, and paid the price. One misplaced Sirius Black uncovers the connections. Post OotP, prior to Ichigo & CO. Minor OC's involved.
1. Chapter 1

Serenade

_The veil belonged in the Department of Mysteries for more than one reason._

Chapter One

The veil. It was right in front of him, but this decayed, decadent sitting room certainly wasn't in the Department of Mysteries, and Sirius Black knew that for a fact, despite his hazy state of consciousness. Nowhere in the Department of Mysteries (or the Ministry at all) could you find a room so lavishly floored with fine hardwoods, so tastefully furnished with low-sitting Asian tables and mats, or so artfully decorated with tapestries and vases. But Sirius knew even better how to spot a room that went unused for decades – like Grimmauld Place's many neglected chambers – and knew that the Ministry would never leave such a room abandoned. Knowing the Ministry, Sirius would expect such a room to be given to the most undeserving official possible. Like a Malfoy.

But enough speculation on the room itself. Sirius wasn't in the Ministry at all, and that's what mattered. He was nowhere near his charge – his godson – and that single thought brought Sirius' consciousness to lucidity, his eyes opening fully for the first time since his arrival in this strange place.

Lifting his head gingerly, Sirius glared hotly at the archway from his place on the floor, blaming the magical object for his predicament since his deranged cousin, Bellatrix, was not present to blame. He hauled himself to his feet, tired muscles protesting and joints creaking, once it became obvious that the inanimate magical object wouldn't respond. He surveyed the surrounding dustbunny-infested floor after he patted himself down, refusing to panic about his missing wand – _didn't have one for so long, need it need it need it, won't let them hurt me or Harry –_ just yet. One minute passed, then another, and as he knelt to investigate beneath the furniture Sirius' self imposed calm started fraying at the edges. His breath came faster and faster, and hysteria would soon follow if that wand didn't show up. Sirius intensified his search, scouring the undersides of the tables while forcing his quivering hands to still.

And then he spotted that familiar little stick, protruding from a large, sturdy ceramic vase that it had impaled. Sirius gently extricated the wand from the broken vase. If his wand had been expelled from the arch with such force, then Sirius likely was as well; that certainly explained the ache in his muscles and the bruises forming on various parts of his body. Sirius found his dubious sanity solidifying as he inspected his wand; thankfully, the blessed stick had only suffered miniscule splinters during the collision.

Turning toward the veil, wand in hand, Sirius began analyzing his options, hoping that he hadn't been stupefied for too long. If Harry had died during his absence…. Back to the options, if he never returned to Harry, Sirius would be of no help. One, walk back through. Two, explore. Three, wait for someone. The last two options were unappealing; the veil was a menacing object, and no person, be they Order members or Death Eaters, would willingly walk through the veil just to retrieve Sirius. The second was also unappealing, but mostly because the decayed glory of this place… it was too much like Grimmauld Place.

Walk through, it was.

As he strode purposefully toward the fluttering veil Sirius willfully ignored his instinct to turn tail and run. The veil's ominous presence sent his imagination running wild during the few seconds it took Sirius to reach the archway, but all those terrors that the veil inspired came to abrupt end.

An impressive _bang!_ resounded, and Sirius found himself in a heap, the delicate screen wall having collapsed when he was thrown into it.

"Shit."

* * *

Notes (3/17/2011): So. This is more of a prelude than anything else. I'll try to crap out a real chapter during my six hour car ride tomorrow.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Sirius disentangled himself from the wall's remnants, cursing colorfully, throwing pieces of dusty wood to the side as he went, and not caring he was in unknown territory making excess noise. Not ready to give up on the veil just yet, he stormed back up to the archway and stopped just short of the point where he had been thrown back previously. Forcing himself to think through the haze of his frustration, Sirius contemplated the veil's mysterious barrier. Auror training from decades previous awakened in his mind, telling him to ascertain his situation, analyze the magic of the barrier, and so much more – _strategy after strategy, I could've used this clarity after Azkaban._

The veil whispered in an invisible wind as Sirius cautiously probed the magic surrounding the object. Anxious moment after anxious moment passed, and Sirius' trepidation was gradually transforming into irritation and befuddlement.

"What is this…?"

Whatever the veil was protected by, it was no magic that Sirius had ever encountered. Unbidden, a memory of Mad-Eye Moody from Sirius' auror days was conjured up in Sirius' mind. _"Don't mess with something if you can't identify whether it's dark or light based. Grey magic is fickle, and that makes it dangerous, boy."_ Sirius had never asked why grey magic was so fickle; he regretted that a little. If only he could figure out how the barrier worked, he could dismantle it….

Apparation! That could be his ticket out! How on earth had he forgotten about apparation? Happily, Sirius thought of where he wanted to apparate - _just outside the ministry, can't just apparate into the Department of Mysteries - _and commanded his magic through the familiar routine of apparation.

Sirius' excitement died quickly when he failed to apparate to lovely, familiar London. He cursed and wallowed in hopelessness for a few moments before returning to his previous activity of analyzing the veil's protections.

Sirius spent the next hour attempting to understand the protections that encased the veil, but it was a fruitless endeavor. He ended up punching several more holes in the wall, which wasn't as irritating as it could have been. Knowing that the barrier had a consistent, repetitive effect meant that the magic surrounding the veil was simplistic. But knowing that didn't do a damn thing to help Sirius get through the barrier and back to Harry.

Mussing his unkempt dark locks, Sirius huffed, searched out the exit, and left the sitting room to find himself in a gloomy hallway; he had no choice but to explore. For a single moment, Sirius stood motionless as he surveyed the gloom – _dark, just like Grimmauld Place, just like Azkaban – _before incanting a quiet lumos. Dust permeated the passage, coating every surface, but no creatures left a trail in the dust whatsoever. Odd, that. Sirius pushed the oddity from his mind and pursued a random direction – _left, right, left, right… to the left._

Within five minutes of exploring the building, Sirius came to the conclusion that he was inside an opulent mansion of Eastern styles – _Japanese maybe? – _that was severely abandoned by all life forms. He peeked into four rooms, each completely abandoned, dusty, yet bizarrely unmarred by time. Strange magic, dead magic, had left an imprint on every object. Anxious anticipation crawled into Sirius' belly as he trekked further, exploring the palatial home and holding his breath; each room he looked into was just as uncanny as the last, and he didn't dare disturb any of it. Finally, Sirius sensed tendrils of live magic stretching sinuously along a particular expanse of wall; the live magic was in highest concentration around the door that was there.

Sunlight trickled in underneath that door, and birdsong could be heard through it. _An exit!_

Sirius wouldn't rush, couldn't rush, toward that exit, even though he so badly wanted to escape the eerie manor. The door was surrounded by grey magic – fickle, annoying, incomprehensible grey magic. But even as he drew ever closer to the exit, there was no activation of the magic; he was not thrown back, maimed, cursed, stupefied, or anything of the sort. The grey magic harmlessly slid over him as he approached the exit; apparently, he was no threat.

Trembling hand extended toward the door, Sirius held his breath as the magic continued to bypass him. His fingertip touched the varnished wood, and nothing happened that Sirius could perceive. He could have leapt for joy then, but instead chose to calmly, quietly, open the door. The door opened easily, and Sirius basked in the afternoon sun as he stepped onto a porch surrounded by woods.

Behind him, the manor's door began to close on its own. When it snapped quietly shut, Sirius turned toward it, suspicion and caution written on his expression. He extended his hand toward it once more, but the grey magic was not to be so kind this time. An electric jolt coursed through Sirius' body, painful and brief, and he yelled in shock as his knees buckled beneath him.

"What the hell?"

Sirius nursed his numb hand back to life as he stared, incensed and confused, at the manor's entrance. His confusion only grew as he observed the door; above it was a proud plaque displaying the single word "Shiba." The door itself had a simple, yet official, plaque nailed to it. He quickly skimmed it, barely noticing the edict's finer details – _betrayal, fall from grace, to live excluded from born privilege_ – and was horrified to find the house forever sealed, unless a soul was one of these curious "death gods."

Sirius was beyond unhappy. He was barred access to his one way home, and it seemed he would have to contend with death gods to find a way back.

* * *

Notes (3/21/2011): And so we get the first hint of Bleach! Shorty chapter, but mostly because I want to get more content out quickly. Please review; I enjoy constructive criticism, and I can take it if you think something is horribly wrong and needs fixing. I also don't have a Beta… so all mistakes are mine :D Lack of language barrier will be explained in due time.

The site was being lame and glitchy; I had this ready two days ago and would have updated, but errors would not permit...


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Sirius was quickly becoming intimately familiar with irritation.

He prowled about the outer edges of Shiba manor as a Grim, scenting every nook and cranny in the hopes of finding a way back into the accursed building. But… despite the fact that he could see cracks in the manor's façade, could sense where there should be weaknesses in the foundation, the sealing magics kept even the scent of dusty decay from seeping out, and hid all points of entry. _How do these death gods do this, how can they be so thorough? There must be a way in…!_

Summer sunlight grayed into the sighing twilight purples of dusk. Reluctantly accepting defeat, the animagus retreated from the building after some hours of scouring, plopping onto his haunches in frustration and huffing in a canine way. Sirius' belly ached for nourishment, but he was no stranger to hunger. He forced himself to think around his basic survival instincts, more prominent as a dog, and weighed the pros and cons of his various courses of action.

Really, there was only one option – go somewhere with accessible resources, which were obviously in shortage outside this derelict, impregnable manor. After a few short minutes of investigative sniffing, Sirius followed his keen nose toward the vague scent of humanity. Sauntering through the nightshades and undergrowth of the forest, Sirius had an intuition that the coming days would be very trying, and he found that small part of his mind – the one that haunted him with nightmares of Azkaban, the one that he couldn't escape even as a dog _so incessant!_ – whispering to him. _I won't find Harry, failure failure _unacceptable._ What would James and Lily think? No redemption for this old hound. _He soldiered on, not quite locking the despair away, but obsessively focusing on his surroundings.

_Oh what lovely flowers, I've never smelt the like before… The sky, the sky – it hasn't been this blue in years. Was that a rabbit? I should hunt…._

Euphoric, despairing insanity was never far from Sirius Black, and it only became cleverer in his doggish mind, hiding within doggish thoughts and activities. Despite the danger – _tempting the beast, am I? Ah, but there isn't a care in the world when you're too manic to think straight? Must remember Harry! – _he indulged in the freedom he felt as a beast. He loved the freedom of letting instinct and insanity reign unimpeded, with no one the wiser. Freedom freedom, it was the bane of Sirius' existence; shackled by pureblood beliefs from birth, and then physically imprisoned in both Azkaban and his desolate childhood home… But at least he was allowed the temporary bliss of forgetting about prying, judging eyes, granted by a canine mind.

Stars ignited in the black sky, lustrous in the lack of moonshine; they peered through the forest canopy, splashing inquisitive starlight onto the quiet brush. The enchanting scene offered little comfort as Sirius nestled under the boughs of a low-sitting pine tree, ignoring his fractured mind's taunts and garish insecurities as best he could._ I will find Harry, I will find him and make it up to him, he must be so upset…_ A stubborn mantra was his lullaby, and sleep's embrace brought him the most peculiar dreams, stranger yet for the fact that he rarely dreamed as a hound.

Moors, rolling and misted, were all Sirius could see in his mind's eye. A harvest moon sat low on the horizon, saturating the forsaken landscape in shades of brassy silver. Lonely and barren, a deformed tree sat atop the nearest mound. Three cries – ghastly howls that evoked images of wolves and demons – rent the still silence, and from behind the warped tree a beast appeared.

Sirius thought of his animagus form as he observed the creature, caution and curiosity warring in his fatigued, wandering mind. _Not my animagus form… fur the color of winter pines, uncanny red eyes – it's no Grim, it's too large, too different…._ Memories of the Scottish highlands –_ freedom, revenge, Wormtail that traitor, fiend, imposter, murderer! –_ surfaced abruptly. These creatures were no myth; he had seen one prowling the desolate heaths of the northern British isles. A Cusìth was wandering Sirius' dreamscape.

Merrily chirping birds stole away the rest of Sirius' delusions, but not before he heard the beast call his name, its voice spectral and thin. Despite the persistent sunlight warming him as he shook the leaves from his hide, Sirius was chilled to the boned by that lingering voice. Shaking the sensation and memory, he scrounged for edibles, rapidly consuming the bare minimum to satiate his aching stomach, and followed his nose toward civilization once more.

Another day passed – _no more Cusíth dreams, thank goodness, but too much me, alone alone alone –_ before Sirius found civilization, and he was astounded by the sight of it. As he mounted the peak of a craggy hill – the fading remains of a glorious mountain – a vast megalopolis, spanning for miles around, greeted him with its pristine nucleus and decayed outer districts. This was Sirius' first meeting with the Rukongai, and he was awed enough to forget his surroundings, his heightened canine senses useless in his stupor. His hackles rose when the uninvited hands of destitute children stroked his dusty fur, but at the sight of their ratty clothing his heart ached for their sad station in life.

"Aki-chan, can you believe it? This dog is huge! And not mean like the other strays!" The boy, maybe ten years of age, his hair sandy and eyes dark green, was enthusiastically trying to coax a girl to join him in petting the animagus. The girl, dark haired with distinctly Asian features, stood by a few feet away, uncertainty written on her smudged and fatigued face. It was obvious the boy was faring better with their impoverished livelihoods.

"Hiroki-kun… are you sure you should be doing that? I mean, it's pretty big. He could eat you." Sirius didn't understand the suffixes they attach to one another's name but didn't dwell on it as the little boy, Hiroki, proceeded to grab Sirius' ears, contorting his face into something Sirius was sure is intended to look whimsical and inviting.

"Look at this face! He's adorable, how could you say that?" Sirius' tongue lolled out, emphasizing the boy's incredulity – _where are their parents? No child should grow up without some sort of guidance, support..._ Hiroki stopped twisting Sirius's ears as Aki smiled shyly, and she hesitantly approached the animagus, reaching for and scratching the soft fur behind his ears. Aki spoke as she stroked Sirius' ears.

"We should keep looking for food and get back home before nightfall Hiroki. You know what the gangs do to kids in the outer districts who stay out too late." Sirius' heart broke at the thought that these children not only were fending for themselves, but apparently had much to fear in the darkness of night. His inner Gryffindor couldn't handle the thought of two little orphans getting caught up in the violence and immorality of gang operations. They continued petting his hide absentmindedly as they conversed, although Hiroki's eyes dimmed a little at the prospect of scavenging.

"You're right, as usual. Maybe we can get the dog to come with us, though. Who knows, maybe he has special abilities! I've heard legends that one or two shinigami could turn into some mystical animal, maybe he's a shinigami!" Hiroki was exuberant as he said this, his eyes alight with hope. Sirius was both mildly confused and amused; the animagus had no clue what a shinigami was, but if it was anything close to human, then the boy was closer to the truth than he knew. Aki's response came quick, and it was more mature and thoughtful than Sirius expected.

"I don't know about the shinigami part Hiroki." She giggled softly before continuing. "But it might be good to have such a big dog around. If we can train him, he might be able to protect us from the weaker gang members who like picking on kids like us. And he would be especially helpful if he can hunt… it'd be nice to eat something other than half rotten meat and day old bread." Hiroki's eyes brightened once more at Aki's words, and his voice was high and jubilant as he spoke.

"Yeah! It would be great to eat good food that'll help us grow, right Aki?" Hiroki sobered during his next words, expression introspective and melancholy. "Maybe then… if we grow up strong, we can get into the Shinigami Academy for sure and leave the ghettos behind."

Aki's dirty, sweet, round little face brightened with a smile, as if to compensate for her companion's gloom. "Don't worry, Hiroki-kun. I know we'll be strong enough to get in eventually, it just might take a few decades. But decades around here are like regular years in the real world, so we'll be in the Shinigami Academy in no time." Sirius was completed befuddled by Aki's proclamation – _decades are like regular years in the real world? What? Shinigami Academy?_ He might have to reveal himself as a human, if he wanted answers anytime soon…. He knew he couldn't leave these children to fend for themselves, it was a given that he would help them as much as he could; an added plus – he could passively learn about this place while he figured out how to reach Harry.

"I know… it just seems like such a long time. But that's ok, because now we have a dog! What should we name him?" Just like that, Hiroki was cheerfully optimistic again.

Aki's reply was confident and sure. "Kenta. His name should be Kenta." Hiroki nodded in zealous agreement. "Now let's find that food, Hiroki-kun, before it's too late."

The children beckoned for him to follow as they walked, and the animagus had no trouble obeying them, to their surprise. _Perhaps…._ Sirius made for an unusually intelligent dog, but he supposed from the previous conversation that these children were older and cleverer than they looked; he pushed the thought from his mind as he tailed the two children downhill during their trek toward the sprawling city's outer limits. When the three came across a shallow river, Aki and Hiroki waded into the current and attempted to catch fish bare-handed. Sirius came to their aid, snapping fish into his capable jaws and depositing them gently on the banks. He happily sat on the bank with his catch of four fish after half an hour, and woofed good-naturedly at the girl and boy, demanding their attention.

Hiroki exclaimed his praise as he splashed through the water toward the Sirius. "Wow, Aki-chan! Kenta is so smart! Now we need to start a fire to roast these and eat up before sundown."

"Ok. There are some bushes and saplings over there that we can use as tinder."

Sirius helped the two children haul tinder into a quiet, concealed dell nearby and stood guard as they roasted the day's catch. Despite their ravenous appetites –_ they're neglected and forgotten by a whole society, does anyone in this city have a heart? –_ the children thought to toss him a cooked fish, and Sirius tucked in appreciatively as he suspiciously eyed the few passerby and fishermen; the animagus made a particular point of snarling at any who passed closer than he liked.

It had taken all of two hours of guarding the two children for Sirius to know it would be a hard parting when inevitability arrived. They were kindred spirits; each of them was a stray, an outcast.

Notes (6/21/11):

I guess I'm not done with this fic. I like writing about Sirius. A lot. But updates are most certainly going to be sporadic and nonsensical with this; I've got a general idea of what I'd like to achieve over the course of this story, but the in-between is unknown. Additionally I have determined that my typing spree in December of 2010 was what instigated my left arm injury. I'm going to get cheap a graphic tablet with my next paycheck, since typing in general aggravates the muscles in my left arm. Oh. And I don't have a beta, so all mistakes are mine.

I assure you that Hiroki and Aki are periphery OC's; they are just Sirius' first, most candid introduction to the pains and joys of the Rukongai and Soul Society. Hiroki means "abundant joy" or "strength." Aki means "autumn child." Kenta means "healthy/strong" or "big/stout." I know, quite literal names for the males.

Look up the Cusíth on Wikipedia; I'm guessing you can figure out what the dream's cause is.

Also – this story, I think, will delve into an exploration of the Veil's connection to the downfall of the Shiba clan. I'm leaning toward having this take place prior to Kaien's death. Additionally, the Shiba clan might end up looking a little dark and manipulative because of what I have in mind. Sirius will be less than stable, and more often than not find himself confronting his past and blood. How do you all feel about that? I'd like the ideas and feedback quite a lot.

Sorry for the wait and long note. Please review!

PS, let me know how you feel about short word count/short wait vs. lotsa words/long wait for updates. It might end up just being short updates, once in a very long while because of my arm.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

The Second Division of the Gotei 13 embodied diligence. In every action of every officer, efficiency and obedience were the rule – never the exception. The Onmitsukidō, being under the same captain as the Second Division, mirrored the Second Division's dutiful obeisance.

Failure was not tolerated; it was an embarrassment, worthy of permanent demotion and Captain Soifon's eternal disappointment. A reminder of the division's sentiments on failure came in the form of an inattentive rookie who had been assigned to the surveillance of the defunct Shiba manor.

"What is the punishment for tardiness – for failure to promptly report to your commander?"

Soifon was addressing the majority of the Second Division's night shift. They were arranged in marching formation in the division's main pavilion; the rookie stood, alienated and disgraced, several feet in front of the first line of shinigami. Each of the assembled shinigami knew the captain asked a rhetorical question. The petite captain knew that none would answer, and allowed the tense silence to continue, raking the rookie's nerves into frayed disarray. She gave no sign of emotion as she stared dispassionately into the eyes of her subordinates.

"You all know the answer. I can see it in your eyes, your stance. This one," She stated, gesturing harshly to the humiliated technician, "shall never rise to a seated position. In addition, he is assigned to daily remedial training for a currently undetermined amount of time."

Anger. Even though her inflection and pacing did not change as she spoke, the subordinates could recognize scarlet, burning anger in the captain's word choice. She did not speak his name, and worse yet she had not stated the amount of time that the rookie would be in remedial training.

Soifon was royally pissed.

* * *

"Was that necessary?"

He spoke from the shadows; his stealth and wits had hidden him from the sight of the Second Division's night guard. Soifon, however, had sensed his approach long before his arrival.

"You may be the commander of the Detention Unit, and I may allow you to speak your mind to me, but you are not allowed to address me without the appropriate title. It is disrespectful. Is that clear, commander?"

Her tone was neutrally reprimanding, but neither disapproving nor affronted. She hadn't so much as glanced in the Onmitsukidō officer's direction, her steely grey eyes firmly focused on the reports and requests on her desk. The officer, slouched against the wall and obscured by the lack of light, quickly rectified his mistake. He snapped to attention and bowed.

"Yes, Captain Soifon."

Soifon paused, her pen hovering above the script of a request for more training equipment, and turned her gaze upward. She had finally acknowledged the officer, regarding him with grudgingly given respect. The officer nearly smiled, nearly basked in accomplishment, beneath his mask; she had despised him because of his uncalled for familiarity not too long ago.

"As for your question…. His failure was costly. I cannot afford for my subordinates to be inattentive, or for them to think me lax in my discipline; public retribution is a reminder for the rest of the division." Soifon could feel the Detention Unit commander's curiosity – it permeated the air, eager and bright – but she did not elaborate. She did not answer, did not give, without request. The austere captain knew that unwanted help – be it information or reinforcements – could be as harmful as inaction.

"You called me here for a reason Captain, and I suspect it has something to do with that technician. Just what happened, Captain, for you to be so irate?"

His phrasing and word choice were as respectful as would be expected of the usual subordinate, but for this officer it was an unusually polite statement. He was no brute, nor was he stupid, but he was uncultured – a Rukongai orphan that had risen through the ranks through hard work and latent talent. Soifon was strict and had been raised by nobles, but she understood that this officer meant her no disrespect with his unrefined manners. It had taken time for her to reach such understanding, but it had been a fruitful epiphany that only came to her a few years previous.

"You are correct. A disturbance arose at the Shiba manor. The assigned technician knew that while the manor was unlikely to be disturbed, he also understood that it would be of utmost importance to report to his commanding officer in any instance where the Shiba manor was disturbed. He did not report to his commanding officer until 24 hours after the disturbance, and gave no excuse whatsoever."

The Detention Unit commander gave a low whistle; she could see that his eyebrows were raised in an expression of disbelief.

"Indeed, commander, I was disappointed when news reached me half an hour ago. The Ōmaeda family, while frustratingly arrogant, has never produced such an inattentive fool before. Marejirōsaburō is simply inadequate; thankfully, his elder brother is performing admirably." She repressed a sigh here, and set down her pen at last, choosing to meet her subordinate's gaze directly. The commander did not miss the lack of honorific on the disgraced technician's name.

"You will meet with the Patrol Corps commander and coordinate an investigation immediately. I expect you and your chosen squad to be mobilized within half an hour." The captain's gaze hardened here, and a small scowl settled in her brow. "Do not disappoint me, commander. I believe that I can only suffer so much of that."

"Yes, Captain." He saluted, waiting for her dismissal. At her nod, he moved to the doorway, saying just before his departure, "Take care."

She hated that he was close enough to her to get away with saying something so casual, and she hated herself for many other reasons. Yoruichi's bitter departure had tainted so many of Soifon's thoughts and feelings. Simply existing had been straightforward for Soifon, once upon a time.

That wasn't the way of things. Not anymore.

* * *

The veil of late night had settled over the Rukongai districts. In the outer districts, the gangs assembled under the cover of darkness. Few of the residents of the outer districts were stupid enough to be out in the open; the newly dead, though, were often caught by thugs and forced into the most inhumane of services – slavery, in all its ghastly forms.

Hiroki and Aki were smart enough from the start to survive the harsh brutalities of the outer Rukongai. Sirius had followed them into the ramshackle neighborhoods of the 80th district, and settled in with them for the night. Their chosen haven, an abandoned shed, was hazardous and derelict. Rodents and insects scurried along the walls, and the floor was simple dirt; nails haphazardly protruded from the molding wooden walls.

This shanty was the norm in the 80th district, and Sirius mourned for Hiroki and Aki's lost childhood as he lay down on the earthen floor. They certainly were not children in Sirius' eyes, except in looks, if they could survive such unkind conditions. He quietly guarded the entrance to their abode as the children huddled for warmth, whispering to each other in the darkness.

"I hear the Shinigami Academy is admitting students in a few weeks, Hiroki-kun. Do you think we'd get in if we're lucky?" Aki's whisper carried to Sirius, and he could hear bittersweet hope oozing from her inquiry. Sirius did not envy Hiroki's position at the moment; being subjected to such a conflict of honesty and soothing a friend was beyond him, and he knew it. _I can't help someone else, I can barely help myself – ah but I can survive and live live live… how does that help Harry, abandoned and alone?_

Sirius' self-deprecating trail of thought was cut short by Hiroki's reply, and he found himself impressed by Hiroki's sensitivity to the subject.

"Maybe, Aki-chan. I know that even orphans and commoners like us who have no training can get into the Shinigami Academy. My friend Hanatarō made it in just a few years ago, and his brother before him. You met Hanatarō, remember?"

"Yes. He wasn't particularly strong though, so how did he get in?" Hiroki chuckled a little at Aki's statement.

"True, he wasn't strong, but I hear that there's a division in the Gotei 13 that only heals. I can see him going to that division." Aki was silent for a few minutes after Hiroki said this, but her next proclamation was stunning in its maturity.

"Hiroki-kun, if one of us makes it into the Academy and the other doesn't, then the one who gets in should go. It's better than both of us staying out here." Hiroki didn't flounder for even a moment, and didn't give an intensely emotional response. He simply sighed before speaking.

"You're right, but I think we won't need to worry about that. We can both get in."

Not another word was said, and the trio fell into a restless slumber as they contemplated what the future would bring.

* * *

Eight members of the Onmitsukidō sped through the night away from the Shiba manor. It had taken them two hours to reach the noble house, despite their heavy use of shunpo, and when they reached the mansion the midnight moon was already shining bright. They made short work of tracing the unknown entity's reiatsu, and began tracking the signature toward the Rukongai districts.

The Twelfth Division's gadgets certainly helped them along the way; it would be one oversight – one moment where they forewent the technology – that would cost them their prey.

Another two hours of tracking into the Rukongai. The moon was setting, and predawn sat coldly on the land. Two children were huddled in a shack, and the unknown's signature was saturating the area. The Detention Unit commander spoke, hushed yet forceful, from his perch atop a roof overlooking the ramshackle shed. The seven others were the embodiment of attentiveness.

"Take the two children quietly. Knock them out if necessary, we don't need the people causing a riot or the gangs trying to challenge us."

It was left unsaid that the hound, an unintelligent creature incapable of divulging information, was to be unbothered.

* * *

Sirius awoke to whispering cloth and muffled cries; his eyes snapped open to see flashing shadows snapping up the now unconscious children, and with a guttural howl he made haste to follow as the shades flashed away into the dark neighborhood.

It was then that his world froze for a moment, and then he was falling away. The moors were back again when he stopped falling, and the Cusìth appeared to him, this time accompanied by a gargantuan two-headed canine – _black as the night, but as terrible?_ – that resembled the mythical Cerberus. Its hazel eyes peered through the shades of night, reflecting the starlight in glints and shimmers.

Sirius knew that he should have been terrified, should run and hide – _away away, always hidden away, so useless in the background_. Instead, he thought of the ancient Greek myths his mother forced into his mind as a young boy, some that featured the Cerberus. _She loved to remind us that we were descended from one of the oracles._

"What happened?" Sirius' question was spoken without forethought; he was vaguely concerned with how bemused he sounded. _Am I hallucinating again? The delusions were never so mild, always so horrible – dreams of what never was, what was too true, and Azkaban twisted and turned it all into sadness, despair, dark dark darkness…._

The skies above them darkened from a purple haze into inky black, and the two-headed one spoke from both mouths. Its clear voice – feminine and strong – cut through Sirius' wandering thoughts, partially returning his foggy attention to the present.

"It is of no concern any longer." As if the creature sensed his approaching protest – _children kidnapped, how could that be of no concern? – _it continued speaking, soothing his quietly ruffled temper. "The children will be safe because they are ignorant; however, you will find no safe haven. You are the one that the death gods – the shinigami – seek. Luck has saved you thus far." Death gods – they seemed important, and Sirius uncertainly recalled a memory about them.

Ah, yes. The Shiba manor's plaque.

"So death gods and shinigami are one and the same, that's what Hiroki and Aki were talking about…." The animagus was voicing his straying thoughts. Nothing could stay straight in his mind. "I should be worried, if these shinigami are looking for me." There was no worry, yet. Just fog and haze, and ambiguous impressions of emotions.

It was the same tired haze that came after his delusions; the agonizing hallucinations – _Azkaban reaches for me from the past, I left something behind there, perhaps a piece of myself, and Azkaban gave me a souvenir too –_ that rent his mind to pieces left him in a broken stupor every time, his usual impassioned, volatile nature dampened. Insanity brought blissful negligence and searing agony in equal parts – _a double edged blade, indeed._ He supposed he was in shock; no past hallucination had ever been so mild or bewildering.

"What is this place? Who are you?" The canines elected to pace around Sirius rather than answer; his words echoed in the air and died. Normally he would have felt scorned, his pride battered, but mild irritation and bemusement were all that he could perceive in the daze.

"Is this even real?" Sirius tilted his head back to observe the obsidian sky; the constellation of Orion shined through an opening in the cloud cover, and his namesake peered at him –_ bright, luminescent, could I ever shine so brilliantly?_

"It is indeed real," the Cusìth replied in its haunting multi-tone voice, and Sirius slowly returned his attention to the canines, his head lolling forward for a short moment. The Cusìth sat down in front of Sirius' immobile figure; it was only then that the animagus realized that the creature, while smaller than its counterpart, was impressively large – similar in size to the most massive of dogs. The other hound settled next to the Cusìth, and Sirius was dwarfed by the beast – _at least the size of a horse, how could such a thing exist? _The ebony-furred behemoth spoke, its bell like tones soothing Sirius' dazed mind.

"As for your other questions, this is your mind, your inner world. We are part of you, and represent your personality." Surprise flooded Sirius' mind, and the clouds above swirled in agitation, a soundless wind stirring them.

"You said this was real." The colossal one appeared to smile, and a throaty chuckle emitted from its two heads. Sirius disregarded this and continued his train of thought. "If this is my mind, it should be far more… twisted." Grins no longer adorned the dark one's muzzles. The Cusìth's rebuttal was swift and more complex than Sirius ever would have anticipated.

"Your inner world has never been stable, Sirius Black, and it has never been pleasant. You were raised in darkness, and that darkness has evolved, remaining in your mind for the entirety of your life. You have clung to hope since the day you were born, but that hope waxes and wanes, rises and falls like the tides. Your inner world is tumultuous and constantly transforming into something new."

Sirius didn't want to know what this place had been like during Azkaban, and he didn't even attempt to deny the darkness bit. Silence reigned for a moment, a day, a year – Sirius didn't know how long – while he contemplated this situation. His mind still festered in a daze, and he couldn't remember what he wanted to ask. He chose to simply speak his mind – _mother always hated that._

"What are you two? You say you represent my personality. Do I have two personalities?" In his muddled consciousness, Sirius vaguely recognized subdued amusement – _it would make almost too much sense for me to have two personalities. _He hadn't realized that he accepted the beasts' words as truth; his auror instincts, the ones that would have told him to doubt and question, lay dormant and useless in some far corner of his mind.

The dark colossus responded first, saying, "I am a war hound. I represent what you choose to be, Sirius – an advocate of the light. I am your loyalty, your courage, your passion and ferocity, your morals. I am a warrior, and the most true of friends. A Gryffindor." The CusÌth spoke immediately after the dark one's proclamation, leaving not a moment of silence in which Sirius could speak.

"And I am a Cusìth, a true hunting hound. I represent what you were raised to be – a pureblood. I am your cunning, your drive to survive, your darkest desires. I am a master of disguise, of infiltration, and of efficiency. I am a Slytherin." There was a pause here; Sirius was astounded, and the night air turned deathly still around him. _Still a Slytherin, am I? Even after all I've tried to do to change._ The moon shone down on him, its light a cold comfort – _comfort is better than none. _His befuddlement finally left him, the shock of the Cusìth's words awakening his cognizance, and the low mists on the moors' hills dissipated.

"So, in a way, I do have two personalities." The dark one ignored his statement; a note of urgency entered its tone as it spoke.

"We are soul cutters, the weapons of shinigami – or, as they say, zanpakutō – and representatives of the bearer's soul. If you wish to survive in this world you must learn to utilize us, Sirius, or you may never reunite with Harry."

Ah. The creature was a part of Sirius, of course it knew that his sanity hinged on Harry's safety – _he and Remus are all that I have left of those days_.

"You must search your soul and say our names, or you will not be able to use our strength. Saying our names is the first step in opening the relationship between zanpakutō and shinigami." The Cusìth had said this, its braided tail swishing agitatedly and ears flicking to and fro.

The names came to Sirius of their own volition. His voice was firm and confident as he proclaimed the words. _Fitting names, hunters of Greek myth, both turned to beasts._ The animagus had no idea of the journey that was begun by speaking two simple words.

"Actaeon and Atalanta."

* * *

Notes (7/11/2011):

Ok. Still haven't figured out how to get my graphic tablet and software to convert handwritten text into typed stuff. Working on figuring that out. Still have tendonitis, but it's getting better. I think it was started by some serious knotting in my shoulders.

The writing is slowly becoming more casual; I hope you all like that. My goal for chapter length is 3,000 words. 2,000 words makes it just a little too short, and 3,000 is short enough where I don't kill myself.

**Please review** and let me know what you think! I'd love to hear what you think about Sirius' zanpakutō and the kidnapping scene; I don't know if it's a believable scene, since the Onmitsukidō is under pressure to be very thorough, but it's necessary at the moment.

Also, reviews are great motivation - moreso than faves or alerts.

Thank you to those that have already reviewed! I appreciate it, hearing that reviewers find this an interesting story concept.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Interlude: The Aftermath

Harry mourned – for both Sirius and himself – and it was pitiful. The boy's eyes were bloodshot, his complexion pallid, and hair a tousled mess even worse than usual. Of course, no one could actually see him in such a grievous state. As soon as he had left the headmaster's demolished office, the invisibility cloak was thrown on, and the Gryffindor ventured into the nightshades of Hogwarts' grounds.

It was the day after Harry disappeared that Hermione took things into her own hands. She wouldn't force him to return to the castle for the few days before the end of term feast; he needed time to himself before returning to his horrid relatives. No. Hermione would do what she did best.

Use her brain, of course. _Knowledge is power, and if I can I'll fix this mess._

* * *

Hermione claimed the Room of Requirement as her own for the three days before the end of term feast. She had made her request as specific as possible, and the room provided a small, yet daunting library for her to search through. Dobby stopped by frequently bearing food and drink, informing her that Harry was receiving the same treatment. As per the witch's request, Dobby brought a pot of steaming coffee every time he visited – _I won't sleep until after the feast._

Hermione had never placed much stock in lore, but the tomes she perused in her requested library provided only that – legends, myths, and fairytales. This was the wizarding world, though, and every fairytale bore a grain of truth. She would find those grains and piece them together, for Harry's sake.

The veil belonged in the Department of Mysteries for many reasons – that is, if these tomes told stories of any relevance – _how can such a thing exist?_ Before the end of term feast, Hermione managed to copy the most relevant tomes. _What a useful spell, I'm glad I learned it this year._ She hoped to find something useful over the summer.

Sirius couldn't be dead. Harry needed him.

* * *

Harry attended the end of term feast. His hair was damp, indicating he had showered just before the meal. The mourning adolescent barely acknowledged his two friends, nodding at Ron and Hermione as he sat between them. Tactless as usual, Ron made to ask Harry where he had been. Hermione glared at the Weasley boy, and the redhead was silenced, his expression twisted by a scowl and confusion.

After the meal ended, Ron confronted the muggle-born in the Gryffindor common room. Harry had already retreated to the boys' dormitory, citing that he was tired despite the early hour; he looked troubled, exhausted – beaten – and none troubled him.

"What was that about at dinner, 'Mione?" They were ensconced in the comfortable chairs closest to the common room's roaring fire; it brought them a modicum of comfort, sitting so near the flames.

"Harry needs space right now, Ron. Let him get over the grief on his own, he won't appreciate us crowding him for another couple days." Normally Hermione would be crowding Harry for answers as to where he was, how he was feeling – _are you all right, do you need anything?_

For once, she shoved aside her own feelings and impulses – _it would be for the best! – _thinking instead of how she could truly aid her grieving friend. Ron, despite his inattentive nature, understood that Hermione was acting strange for the situation.

"What are you up to, 'Mione? You look just as bad as Harry, speaking of whom, you would be harassing Harry if it were any other day."

She wasn't offended by his choice of words – _harass?_ Not at all.

"I'm going to fix this, Ron. Sirius is one of the last people Harry has, and I'm going to find a way to get him back." Ron fixed her with an incredulous stare, his mouth agape and eyes wide.

"You're insane, woman! There are rumors in the Ministry that criminals have been pushed through that _thing_ as punishment, never to be seen again!"

Hermione chose to not waste her breath arguing. Maybe she was maturing, but she didn't feel like having to prove that she was doing the right thing or that Ron was being thick.

"I _will_ find Sirius. You'll see, Ron."

* * *

Resume: Soul Society

"I can't spend that much time in here training without taking care of my body! Plus, I'm sure the shinigami will find me soon if I don't get moving, and then I'll be screwed."

Sirius' mental clarity was present for now – _how long this time? A day or two? Sanity always was more fleeting when I was on the run, and I'm hunted now, forever, at least no one could catch me at Grimmauld –_ and with it came the characteristic antics, no small amount of whining, and some uncharacteristic powers of analysis. The self-deprecation, however, was undoubtedly there to stay.

The two zanpakutō had pointed out that Sirius lacked any skill with a blade; they proposed that he remain in his inner world for several days, so that he may obtain a rudimentary understanding of how to wield his zanpakutō. The animagus obviously found the proposition unappealing, as his protests clearly conveyed. The Cerberus look-alike – Atalanta – easily refuted Sirius' protests.

"Your point would be valid, Sirius, if time moved at the same rate in your inner world as it does in the physical realm. Spending several days in your inner world equates to no more than a half hour in the physical realm. Better yet, you need not sleep or eat in your inner world, making training in your inner world with us more time efficient than most other forms of instruction."

Atalanta paused, giving Sirius a moment to absorb the information – _of course my life is just like me, unpredictable –_ and Actaeon finished the Cerberus' rebuttal.

"And the shinigami certainly will not find you in half an hour, Sirius. Use your logic." Sirius snorted – _logic? Even with auror training I'm still a reckless fool, Moody was right about that… it's how I ended up here after all._ Actaeon continued without acknowledging Sirius' skepticism.

"They are occupied with the children; it will be nearly an hour before they realize that the children know nothing, and then the shinigami will return to the 80th district to further track you. That allows us ample time to teach you the basics of zanjutsu; additionally, you will need to obtain a rudimentary grasp of one of my abilities in shikai in that time. It will save you from many otherwise unavoidable, and costly, skirmishes."

Sirius sulked for a short moment, glaring petulantly at the zanpakutō.

"Fine."

* * *

"Report, commander."

Soifon's blunt tone brooked no argument; it was clear to the Detention Unit commander that she was eager for an update on the Shiba Manor disturbance.

"We apprehended two Rukongai children that were the nearest intelligent creatures to the unknown's energy signal. They are currently being questioned under the surveillance of my second."

The captain hummed in response, indicating that she was considering her next words carefully.

"You asked the children preliminary questions, did you not?" The subordinate nodded mutely. "I do not advocate speculation, commander; however I would like to hear your initial impression of the situation." The commander mindfully deliberated his response, and decided to give a conservative assessment of the situation.

"The children appear to know little of the disturbance."

His use of the word "appear" was subtly hopeful; Soifon understood that the commander thought that the children may know some small detail that could push the investigation forward.

An hour later, it became clear that the children held no such information.

"Return to the site of capture, commander, and peruse the area. Leave no stone unturned. Have the children taken to the Shinigami Academy; they have potential."

It was also for the best to keep their only leads nearby.

Despite her earlier demand that the Detention Unit commander not disappoint her, Soifon understood that this investigation could take several weeks, depending on the cleverness of their quarry. If she knew that in three months the case would be left cold, she would have not placed such a burden on her subordinate's shoulders.

* * *

_So tired, three days of this, I can't do it anymore._

"I feel like I'm dying, can we just be done?"

"Not yet. We still have a few hours in here before the shinigami arrive. That's just enough time for you to learn not only Actaeon's first release, but mine as well."

"_Shit. _Can't you let a man have a rest, Atalanta?"

"Never. Enough of your whining, let's begin."

* * *

Atalanta was a beast of battle, and never one to shy from blades or gore. She was the face of war – terrifying, righteous, and horrifically, beautifully poignant. Like the Greek myth – a woman to defeat all men in the hunt, turned to a beast by an angered Goddess. She embodied the boldest of Sirius' tendencies. His determination, his battle instincts and reflexes – all her.

She would teach him to use those strengths more efficiently, and train him to use body and mind in tandem. By her hand, Sirius would become a machine of righteous destruction.

Actaeon was a creature of shadow and darkness. His namesake – the hunter clever and quiet enough to catch the huntress Diana bathing, and turned to a deer, hunted by his own hounds for his crime. He is the wit, the cutthroat competition of Sirius' blood. He houses the tragedy of Sirius' torments and imprisonment.

He would teach Sirius to embrace his cunning. The wizard would become a strategist and spy.

Together, Actaeon and Atalanta would teach Sirius what existence could mean. He would embrace his genius, his anger, and insanity. The wizard had no option but to do so.

* * *

Grueling, bone-deep exhaustion battered at Sirius' mind – _I'll lose it soon if I don't get this under control._ He bellowed out the Cusìth's shikai command anyway, fending off the impending haze.

"Beguile, Actaeon!"

The plain broadsword in his hand shortened into a long dagger, and it triggered one of the many buried memories that lay dormant in Sirius' fragmented mind – _does the lovely Black family have one of these in Gringotts? I'm sure we do, what was it called…? _The two zanpakutō spirits ignored Sirius' inner monologue, with Actaeon commenting, "Well done, Sirius. But can you release Atalanta in tandem with my own release?"

_Shit._

"I'll do my damndest."

He never was one to back down from a challenge.

Atalanta's release taxes Sirius more than his broken pride cares to admit. Where Actaeon's shikai took only a bit of concentration – _just a bit of manipulation of that energy they call reiatsu, nothing to it, just like spell casting – _Atalanta's release was a summoning of overwhelmingly brutal power.

"Smother the skies and earth, Atalanta!"

This broadsword shortens, though not as much as Actaeon's release – but the edges thicken, the blade gaining heft and weight. _Some sort of Greek sword, the other one is too, a xiphos maybe?_

"You're ready."

* * *

Sirius wanted nothing more at that moment of night, sprinting through the dirty streets of the 80th district, than to shift into his dog form. _Of course, that would be incredibly suspicious to just disappear and leave behind a mysterious black dog that hadn't been there before, yes that's completely inconspicuous_. He clutched Actaeon's shikai by the hilt beneath his cloak, Atalanta sealed at his hip, and vividly recalled the Cusìth's last words before he was unceremoniously ejected from his own inner world.

"_Never seal me, Sirius. My release bewilders and twists the senses of others. None will ever recognize your reiatsu as it was before my release, and if you so choose your reiatsu could forever be unrecognizable."_

Apparently Actaeon's shikai didn't keep gangsters – who spotted him mere moments after he left his inner world – from chasing him. One of the hooded mobsters grabbed for Sirius' trailing robe, shredding a portion off. _Well, now what, do I defend myself against them and make a commotion? _When one of the muggers managed to seize Sirius by the bicep and threw the animagus against a wall, the animagus resorted to self-defense.

Naturally, he went for overkill.

"Smother the skies and earth, Atalanta!"

"Shinigami, run for it!"

And they scampered.

* * *

(6/17/12) Mehhhh. Short chapter, because I'm a bum. Also, I'm posting this now to gauge readers' interest or lack thereof. Sorry for the wait, loves! Review, even if you hate it, just tell me why!


End file.
